It took an hour of picking their way through the forest, but they eventually found a worn trail leading down the mountain and towards the town. On the way, Hannah killed her first bloodrunn and joined the others at Level 1.

  As they drew closer, the stench of rotting wood and dust began to permeate the air. The wet earth of the forest smelled like overripe fruit, a stark contrast to the ghost town ahead. It was like a chunk of earth had been ripped from some western desert; the mountain path rapidly transforming into a dusty, yellow street as they approached an old wooden gate where a faded metal sign wrapped around a pole.

  Dusting it off with his robe, Harvey revealed a name.

  “Veil’s End, there’s that word again,” he mused.

  “I knew it would be something ominous. It feels like the set of a horror movie,” Hannah added.

  A single dirt road stretched ahead for a little over a mile, small alleyways branching to side streets with smaller homes. Just inside the gate, a stable with hitching posts and feeding troughs reeked of moldy wet hay. A big red barn adjoined it and looked to have mostly survived the test of time, with only a few gaps in the wooden slats showing its age. To the left, a building with a half-collapsed sign reading “general store” had shattered glass covering the raised porch. Weeds and vines stretched from cracked planter boxes, tangling through the soil to choke the once wide boulevard in dense undergrowth.

  They moved slowly, careful not to make too much noise as they wandered into town. Wind whistled through broken glass, rattling loose planks back and forth in a constant drum.

  Most signs were missing letters, but moving down the street, they saw most buildings you’d expect to find in a frontier town. The largest being an old saloon, the swinging doors that many an outlaw would burst open hung limply from broken bolts. There was also a bank, a church, and a smithy.

  “Some of these are still pretty intact. We might be able to find the tools we need to fix up a few more.” Julian whispered. “We should clear them out one at a time. I say we start with the barn.”

  “Probably a good idea… Wait, is that a zombie?” Harvey asked, pointing to a blood and mud-covered body walking down the road. It shambled with an unsteady gait and hadn’t appeared to notice them before they ducked into a small alleyway.

  “I can’t tell. Considering the venue, it probably is. The ones I’ve seen weren’t rotting like that, though.” Julian suggested.

  “I haven’t seen one yet. Are we talking slowly walking at you while you kill them one by one zombies, or sprint at you like a juiced up football player zombies?” Hannah asked

  “They’re pretty slow, and the weird thing is, they look almost human. There’s some weird skin coloration, and their bodies are cold as ice, but other than that, they’re not much different. The only reason I knew it wasn’t one from the start was the hungry eyes looking like it wanted to bite my face off.” Harvey explained.

  “Good, because if there are superhuman zombies here, I’m just gonna let them get me. There are some apocalypses you don’t survive.” Hannah huffed.

  “I keep thinking about what you said, Harvey, about the veil. It kind of makes sense. We all died today, turned into veilstriders, and got stuck in a forest with half living zombies and half dead birds. We’re literally somewhere between life and death.” Julian mused.

  “So what do we do about that guy? Shoot first and ask questions later?” Hannah asked, pointing to the body winding its way down the road.

  “Why don’t you get ready to shoot and then let it know you’re there. If it’s one of us, he’ll call out. If it’s a zombie, let it fly?” Harvey suggested.

  “Works for me,” Hannah said. Standing tall, she crept out of the alley and into the street. Her chest rose and fell, taking a deep breath as she drew the bowstring tight. Aimed at center mass, she whistled. Startled, the man looked around, panicking when he saw the bow.

  “WAIT! Don’t shoot! Please! I… I need help!” The man screamed.

  Harvey released a breath he hadn’t known he was holding, only to jump as glass shattered beside him. Peaking around the corner, a body wearing a plaid shirt and denim pants was hanging from a broken window, a bestial roar escaping as it clambered out. Black blood leaked from cuts in its hands where shards of glass had embedded themselves.

  Julian took decisive action, grabbing the wooden porch railing and vaulting over before driving his sword into the zombie's back.

  It was too late, the first had called and the rest answered. Glass shattered and wooden doors erupted as bodies poured into the street. The injured man screamed, stumbling towards them.

  “Cover me! I’ll get him.” Julian commanded, sprinting away. Harvey followed Hannah into the middle of the wide boulevard, getting as much open air between themselves and any potential hiding spots.

  Most were unarmed, simply reaching for the closest living thing they could find. Others carried makeshift weapons that swung wildly as they rampaged forward. A woman in a checkered dress carried a metal stoker, covered in soot from the fireplace. Another held a cracked wooden bedpost, dragging it through the sandy dirt as it chased its prey. He even saw one carrying a large wooden spoon.

  Harvey heard the twang of Hannah’s bow firing, arrows sailing into the horde that was leaking from every building. Her accuracy was improving fast, but she struggled to hit her targets as they got closer to Julian and the retreating veilstrider. Harvey couldn’t blame her. The risk of hitting an ally, expecting you to protect them, was a genuine concern when your time using a weapon was shorter than most tutorial videos teaching you proper technique. Not every shot was a hit, and not every hit was effective. But she succeeded in drawing most of the attention away from Julian.

  Harvey was shocked that he managed to keep himself together as more and more zombies headed his way. He’d expected his heart to leap out of his chest when a sea of hungry eyes saw him as their next meal, but he didn’t collapse under the pressure. A cold sweat still washed over him, but apparently, three extra points in willpower were enough.

  With every fight, Harvey got a better idea of the cost to both his body and his essence reserves that came with each arcane bolt. He had no way of knowing exactly how much essence he had to spare, and using it put a drain on his weave that he felt bone deep. He hadn’t reached his limit yet, but he knew he’d find it here. He counted almost two dozen zombies rushing into the street, and their limited arrows and essence wouldn’t be enough if they weren’t tactical.

  Her first hit had embedded an arrow in a zombie’s chest, close to the shoulder. An idea flashed in Harvey’s mind, and he waited for it to stumble closer to make sure he didn’t waste a shot. Flooding the wand, he sent a bolt into the shaft of her arrow, driving it deeper and causing the wood to splinter. The precise wound of an arrow turned to a bloody mess as Harvey turned her sniper shot into a shotgun blast. The zombie staggered back, roaring in pain before charging straight towards him. Sending another bolt at its head, whatever power kept it alive waned, and it collapsed to the ground. A kill notification appeared in his mind.

  “That worked like a charm. Keep bringing them our way, and I’ll finish them off.” Harvey celebrated.

  “I’m already running out of arrows!” Hannah replied. “There won’t be any good ones left after the fight if you start blowing them up!”

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  She made a good point, but when it took four bolts to take down the next foe, he decided to ask for forgiveness instead of permission. A third kill destroyed another arrow, and Hannah didn’t complain. She was focused on helping Julian as he protected the injured veilstrider from the zombie wielding the bedpost. He held a short sword in each hand, making use of the spare they’d looted earlier.

  The zombie took a ferocious swing at Julian’s head, which he met with a swing of his own. His sharp sword bit into the makeshift club, and Harvey saw a subtle tremor in his arm as he struggled to absorb the force. Stopped in its tracks, Julian had an open lane to counterattack, driving his second sword into the zombie's chest. With strength only possible thanks to his Mark, a powerful kick sent the impaled body flying off to bowl into a second zombie behind it. Wrenching his other blade from the wood, he made a fighting retreat.

  “Stay here, and stay calm!” Julian commanded, setting the flailing man at Hannah’s feet. “We can protect you, but if you keep screaming, you’ll wake up more of these things!”

  Without another word, he turned to face the approaching horde. Harvey had dealt with the few zombies approaching from behind, but most were coming down the long road. They were still close to the edge of town and could retreat into the forest if things went south.

  Standing in a cluster in the middle of the road, the trio fought in tandem, dispatching the closest zombie before moving to the next target. Julian was a machine, fighting with brutal force and overpowering enemies with raw strength. Harvey marveled at his composure as he stood tall and resolute, fearless in the face of vessels of profane hunger charging towards him.

  He could barely be called a swordsman, but just like his class, he was a warrior. When a zombie lunged, aiming to take a bite out of him, he stepped back and threw it to the ground. Dropping to one knee, he buried his blade in its back. Before he could stand, the metal poker came swinging towards him. He caught it barehanded and ripped it from the zombie’s grasp, turning the weapon on its owner. When one tried to take a bite out of his neck, he jammed his armor-clad forearm in its mouth, grabbed its forehead, and yanked the chewed arm down, breaking its jaw before sending it stumbling away.

  Harvey got shots in when he could, backing him up while keeping stragglers away from Hannah and the injured man. She was down to her last two arrows and chose to wield them as makeshift spears instead of shooting. Harvey felt a headache coming on fast, turning into a raging storm in his mind as he squeezed every last drop of essence from his body. Each bolt took a heavy toll, weakness spreading through him as his vision blurred. Fighting through the delirium, he thumbed the stopper of an essence potion and tipped it down his throat.

  Unlike the strawberry summer day of a health potion, the essence felt like a lightning bolt that heralded rain finally falling on the parched desert below. Power surged through him, alleviating the strain on his mind while doing little to soothe the dull ache his body endured with every bolt.

  The brutal melee kicked up dust all around them, filling the empty street with an ominous cloud. Each suffered minor wounds from bites, blows, and fingers clawing at exposed skin, but none faced life-threatening injury. At the end of the day, humans fought with weapons, and this battle was swords, spells, and arrows against mindless undead. It was a battle of endurance that felt like it would never end, but they pushed through the pain until nothing rose to oppose them.

  When the dust settled, 26 bodies were strewn all around the boulevard.

  They sat in silence, breathing heavy as they surveyed the carnage. Harvey coughed, expelling the choking dust coating his tongue. It took all he had not to collapse to the floor, but he summoned the will to stay on his feet.

  A familiar light began glowing out of all 3 of them, each levelling up multiple times as pure potential remolded their weaves.

  (You have slain Level 3 - Living Corpse. Essence Gained. 121 Merit Earned) 19X

  …

  (You have slain Level 4 - Living Corpse. Essence Gained. 150 Merit Earned) 7X

  Your Class, Arcanist, has reached level 2. +1 Vitality, +2 Endurance, +2 Wisdom, +1 Willpower, +2 Free Points.

  …

  Your Class, Arcanist, has reached Level 4. +1 Vitality, +2 Endurance, +2 Wisdom, +1 Willpower, +2 Free Points.

  …

  Your Race, Veilstrider, has reached Level 2. +1 to all stats

  Harvey basked in the glow of his levels until the light faded, and he took a moment to go over his status.

  He decided to put three of his free points into Willpower, one into Strength, one into Dexterity, and one into Vitality. It was tempting to push his Wisdom to an even 20 points, but this wasn’t a game where he needed to min/max one particular stat. Every attribute did something to keep him alive, and he couldn’t afford to let his Strength and Dexterity fall behind. Being able to punch harder and move faster might not be important if he ever got to start hurling fireballs at people from a mile away, but they sure as hell mattered when he needed to outrun a hungry bloodrunn.

  “Not how we planned on doing it, but I don’t hate the results,” Julian exclaimed, staring into the empty air in front of him, likely reviewing his own status screen.

  “No kidding, I just got three levels all at once,” Hannah added, doing the same.

  “Levels? Have you guys gone insane?” The injured man shrieked, still shaking like a leaf in the wind. “This is hell, not some game.”